Dementia
by immajedibabe
Summary: Lady Ella, a minor noble in Gondor, manages to woo the elusive and charming Lord Boromir. This follows the life they led before the War of the One Ring. This is the Prelude to The Fellowship of the Ring... Aragorn finds an old diary in a locked room in the Citadel, what secrets does it hold about Boromir? This is Dementia: The Tragic Tale of Lady Ella, Future Stewardess of Gondor!
1. Prologue

**This idea came to me in a dream about why Boromir was always so...reserved. This follows the story of Lady Ella, a noble in Gondor. It's gonna be good so STAY TUNED!**

* * *

"Grace! Grace! Where is Ella?"

A tall, thin blonde girl in a green velvet dress walked into her room, searching for her sister, Ella. Said sister sat at her vanity tweaking her brunette curls vainly. Ella's porcelain skin shimmered brightly, clashing with her plump, vermillion lips. Her emerald eyes observed her thin fingers twisting in her hair.

"Sister?"

"Grace."

"Father wants you," the blonde said softly, brilliant blue eyes falling on her sister's red dress and the dagger strapped to her small waist. Ella nodded slowly, giving Grace a brilliant smile. Of the two sisters, Ella was the youngest by one year, being 20 years of age, Grace, 21. Ella surpassed her in beauty, albeit Grace was more sociable. Ella was the reserved and brooding, choosing to spend her time wisely, picking and choosing her company wisely. Ella descended down the elegant wooden stairs to her father who stood waiting for his favorite daughter.

"Ella," he whispered, observing his beautiful daughter's new pale red evening dress. Her large breasts peeped out of the top of the dress, and the dress hugged her curvy hips. Her father hugged her, his 6'6'' frame towering over her 5'6''frame. Grace stood at the top of the staircase fiddling with a stray strand on her emerald dress. Ella and Grace's father crept down to Ella's ear.

"Lord Boromir will be there tonight. Be sure you catch his eye." Ella nodded, her plump lips curving into a smile.

"It shall be done father."

* * *

Evening crept upon Ella and she sat lazily in her living room. She had removed her dagger from her waist, opting for it to be strapped to her thigh. One never knew when they would need a weapon. She had been taught self defense when she was but 8. Her father, being a very prominent and noble merchant in Gonder on the 6th level, felt it would be better if jealous competitors could not touch his children. Ella was his dream daughter. Grace was his eldest, however, when one's life is based on selling _only_ the best, one refuses to sell second best merchandise. Grace would be married to a minor noble of Gondor or perhaps Rohan. Many would attend the party tonight. Ella's only concern was the Steward's son, Boromir. It was said that his eyes were the color of clouds just before a storm. He was known for his broad shoulders and large frame. Ella heard he was handsome too.

"Ella, are you here?" A soft, wimpish voice mumbled from the doorway.

"Mother," Ella whispered, quickly standing up. Her mother's skin was unnaturally pale, covered by a thin nightgown. Her normally bright green eyes were lackluster, the sockets holding them sunken in her skull. A blood-stained kerchief was clenched in her hand, a token of consumption.

"Is Garrett here?" Tears brimmed at Ella's eyes as her mother searched for her boy that would never show up.

"He's at the market mother..."

"Oh goodness. I should have told him to pick up flour," she muttered. Tears floated down Ella's face as she watched her mother retreat to her sick bed, muttering about her lost son Garrett.

"She'll never get better," her father muttered from behind her. Tears brimmed in his blue eyes as he stared aimlessly at the place where his wife stood just moments before.

"When did it really start, Father?" Ella asked softly, "It's not just the consumption."

"It happened when Garrett passed on. It was before we had Gracie... I'll tell you after the ball. Now, go and get yourself a husband."

"I will not fail you father."

* * *

"Presenting the merchant Seon and his daughters, Lady Grace and Lady Ella." Applause sounded across the room, and Ella smiled widely. All eyes were on her. They weren't on her sister or her father or any other woman. She was the main attraction. 'Now, where was Boromir?'

"Lord Boromir is over by Kibbi. Be sure your friendship with her does not prevent you from obtaining your goal." Seon eyed Ella sharply, giving her a look that would frighten an Orc. Ella shuffled off, sending a smile towards her sister. She saw Kibbi, given name Kibbana, first, shiny black hair pulled up into a boring, manageable bun. Her brown eyes met Ella's emerald orbs, and she smiled. It was not a smile of friendship, however. She had her duties and Ella had hers. The man who stood next to her was absolutely stunning. He was big but not overweight, muscles peeking out of his dress tunic. His steely gray eyes met her emerald ones and he nodded politely towards her. Ella sadly turned herself towards another suitor. He was a plump, red-headed, baby faced man by the name of Rorn.

"Good Evening, Lady Ella. Are you here for my help again?"

She smiled at the man saying, "You know me so well Rorn-y. I'm so glad you came with me. Of course I do. Is he watching?"

"If by 'he' you mean Lord Boromir, yes. Would you like me to say something funny?"

Ella's soft tinkling laughter rang up, reaching Boromir's large ears.

"Who is that woman with Lord Rorn, Lady Kibbana?"

"No one special," Kibbi said quite loudly, "Just a merchant's daughter."

"Yes, but her name?"

"Ella," she grumbled defeated, seeing the look in his eyes. He walked away slowly, entranced by her shameful beauty.

"She's insane, milord," Kibbi muttered as a last attempt, "A complete nutter. Don't waste your time. She'll poison your mind as well."

"Aren't we all mad?"

* * *

"Oh Rorn, it's not working! He doesn't even notice me."

"Oh really? Because he's walking over here now," Rorn said softly, a smile gracing his pudgy lips. With that, he took his leave.

"My lady Ella?"

"Ah yes, you are Lord Boromir, correct?" He towered over her,almost a foot taller than her, approximately 6'4''. A small smile graced his thin lips. He was quite handsome, not unpleasing to the eye. His hair was shoulder length and a dark brown shade.

"My lady, I am ashamed to say I have not seen your face at court before." A blush graced her face as he grinned.

"Nor have you had the chance. This is my first year in the Gondorian court. My sister, Grace, has been in this court for 5 years. Perhaps you know her?"

"The blonde woman talking to Lord Balïsh?" She looked over, and sure enough, her sister was across the room, flirting with Lord Balïsh, a minor noble.

"Bravo, my lord. It appears you have found her."

"So, how long have you lived in Gondor?" Boromir asked, swiftly grabbing two glasses of wine off a servant's tray, handing one to Ella.

"I lived in Gondor for the first 13 years of my life, but I was quickly sent to Rohan for my debut and lessons. I was quite popular with the young lord Éomer. That aside, I moved back a month ago due to a family issue and here I am," she finished, sipping at her red wine.

"Here you are," Boromir echoed, "Forgive my rudeness, but how old are you?"

"My lord, how shameful. Rules of etiquette strictly state that a gentleman should not ask a lady's age, however, I am not one for rules. I shall divulge this information if you shall return the favor."

"Of course, my lady. How can I refuse?" He asked, mockingly, a wide grin on his face.

"I am 20 years of age."

"You are not much younger than I. Tomorrow is my 24th name-day."

"I was not informed that this was your name-day ceremony! I should have brought my lord a gift!"

As Ella worried over her error, Boromir began to laugh, _loudly_. He laughed so loudly that Ella was brought out of her pit of self-loathing forced to flush a bright crimson. Everyone in the room froze at Boromir's loud laughing.

"My lady, you continue to amuse me. You worry not about wishing me a happy name-day but instead, you worry about bits and baubles that you should have bought! I did not want a name-day ceremony. That is why this is simply a ball."

Ella's mouth twitched. This was not going the way she planned! She was supposed to be charming! Beautiful! Elegant! However, from the looks her father shot her from across the room, she was anything but.

"Forgive me my lord," she said stiffly.

"If you'll excuse me, I must take my leave." 'Time for Plan B,' she thought.

"My lord?"

"My lady?"

"Before you leave, I have a confession."

"Speak your mind, Lady Ella." Eyes turned towards our conversation.

"Truthfully, I am not here to chat idly by with you. My sole purpose in speaking to you was to woo you, and I shall be cast in the fires of Mount Doom should I not get my way. I demand you come back and speak with me so that I may try again with my wooing."

"Lady Ella, you are too bold!" An older lady shouted from the crowd.

"I shall be bold if I like. I am the youngest in my family, given everything I desire, and I am spoiled rotten. Nothing is too bold."

Boromir watched Ella as she spoke her mind. Truly, this woman was mad. Completely mad, and Boromir knew he should not take an interest in her. However, aren't we all mad?

"Lady Eleanor, leave Lady Ella be. She was not too bold. I would enjoy being wooed by you, Lady Ella. Will you join me on the balcony?"

Ella blushed, "Of course, my lord."

* * *

The balcony was chilly, and Ella stood close to the tower that was Boromir. She was too cold for said wooing, and they both stood in silence.

"I was wondering, my lady, would you and your family be at all interested in dining with my own family for my name-day dinner tomorrow. It will be a small, meaningless affair, however, I would like to speak to you without so many watchful eyes."

Ella's mouth fell open.

"It is rude for a lady to gape wildly at a man who just invited her to sup with him."

"Forgive me! I," she closed her mouth, "I would be honored to join you for dinner."

"Splendid! Shall I see you around six o'clock?"

"Six o'clock sounds wonderful, my lord." He grinned madly at her, eyes full of mirth.

"I shall go tell my father of this news. Would you accompany me back inside?" He offered her a muscled arm.

"Of course," she stated softly, taking his arm. What woman would refuse?

* * *

**And that's all she wrote folks! Stay tuned for the first chapter which will consist of the dinner and perhaps a few more "DATES". Boromir and Ella are going to have a few talks too. :D I might not be able to spin out chapters quickly because my mom is mad that I'm on the comp so much, however, I will try my hardest to get these out for ya! Check out some of my other stories (What Should Have Been is gonna be a two or three shot...maybe) and review Review REVIEW! :) Ta-Ta!**


	2. A Stranger Under the Balcony

**I'm back! SORRY! I was caught up reading LOTR and Jane Eyre at the same time! My fault. I spent forever on this chapter, and I hope you review it. BTW Faramir is 20 and Boromir is 25, making the year TA 3003 I believe. I really like the OC I created that meets Grace. I think you will too. He's a very dashing character, almost like Will Turner. Read, Review, Enjoy!**

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"Ella! _No_! You did not!"

"I did very much. I convinced him to invite us to dinner," Ella said confidently, not including her mess-up and the fact that he asked on his own accord.

"I'm very proud of you, my dear Ella," her father, Seon, said loudly, walking into their large estate on the 6th level of Gondor. Ella's vermillion lips curved up in a smug smile.

"So," she said tactically, "What shall we do about mother?"

"Mother will be left with her nurse. You need not worry about her. She will be dealt with. As for you and your sister, Grace you shall wear your gray dress and Ella you will wear the purple. You will both look stunning."

Grace smiled politely saying to Ella, "Come sister, I will help you take down your hair."

"And I shall help you as well Gracie, come now. We can't stay up too late. We have a big day tomorrow," Ella said, grasping at her sister's hand, kissing her temple softly. Grace smiled after her sister, following her. She was in a good mood. Grace watched her sister's glowing face as she happily undid the ties and pins in her hair and setting them on the vanity. As Ella cleared up Grace's hair, a song fell from her lips. She sang songs of love and joy, grinning from ear to ear. Grace smiled too, for it was contagious. It was then Ella's turn to have her hair taken down, however, she would not sit down.

"Oh Grace! He is so handsome! Captain! He is to be a Captain! Oh, when he becomes Steward, I will be at his side with a son in my belly! I cannot wait!"

Grace smiled, "Oh Ella, he is not even courting you yet! Control your passion!"

Ella looked at her sister, smiling. "As you wish, Sister."

Sitting down, Ella continued to grin. She watched Grace pick at her hair, delicately pulling out the pearl pins in her hair. Curly brown hair cascaded down her back, stopping just below the small of her back. Grace warily watched her sister squirm in her chair as Grace brushed her hair.

"Oh, Grace! I feel as if I could fly to the edge of the world and ride back upon the sun!"

"You are too bold, sister."

Ella grinned widely, "But is that not what made Boromir run towards me in a loving embrace?"

Grace grimaced. She always did this. Always. Grace loved her sister, however, when she got this way, Grace loathed her. Ella smiled at herself, completely absorbed in her appearance. She picked at her dark, curly hair, selfish eyes gorging themselves on her beauty. Grace turned away, seeking the refuge of the balcony outside her room. The blonde haired beauty stared at the night sky, longing for the Queen of stars, Varda, to whisk her away. She leaned an arm on the railing, heaving a great big sigh.

"Why does a fair maiden like yourself sigh so heavily?"

"Who goes there? Speak your name," she commanded with as much authority she could muster.

"You do not know who I am, and I know not who you are. I was simply passing by your windowsill, and I heard this lovely lady's sigh. Tell me, lovely goddess, what is your name?"

"Grace. What is yours?" She said, completely charmed by his low, rough voice. It felt like running a finger upon sandpaper, rough, but soothing. As she leaned over to get a good look at him, he slunk into the shadows. He was thin and nimble, however, toned muscles lie beneath his white billowing shirt.

"I shall tell you tomorrow night. Meet me here an hour before midnight."

"I await our next meeting, Ser," Grace said, wondering why she was so excited.

"Goodnight, my lady."

Grace heard footsteps, the clacking belonging to black boots. She saw a large hat with a large feather attached. She saw he was not clean-shaven, instead sporting a trimmed beard. She could not see his face due to the moon disappearing behind the clouds.

"Farewell!" She called. He turned around and revealed a straight set of pearly white teeth.

"Grace?" The blonde girl spun around, bracing herself on the stone balcony, scraping her hands. Ella stood in the door way, curious eyes peering at her.

"What are you doing out tonight? It's quite chilly. Winter is coming. The leaves are leaving. Come inside. I'm freezing." Grace reluctantly followed her sister inside, staring once more into the dark night. Who was that man?

* * *

Morning broke and Grace woke up, blue eyes covered in sleep. She stretched, back popping. She sat up, hair in a tizzy. She sleepily spotted the brush on her nightstand. She picked it up and brushed through it lazily.

"_Garrett!_" A shriek ran out through the house. Grace's eyes widened. She jumped out of bed and rushed to her mother's room. Ella was there first as her room was closest.

"Mother? Mother, open the door!"

"Where is my Garrett? Where is my _baby_?"

Grace stepped forward, doing the only thing she could think of. "He's out here, mother. Open up!" The door creaked open slowly, their old, graying mother walking out. Her dull, green eyes looked up at the girl who shared so many of her physical traits.

"Ella," she smiled. Grace slunk back slowly, dodging her father, who had just arrived. Grace walked to the larder, grabbing a small loaf of bread and taking a large bite. She plopped down on a crate. Tears floated down her face. It was always Ella. Ella this. Ella that. Ella, Ella, _Ella_! She threw the bread across the room, standing up. She wished it were midnight. She wished she could sleep forever. Grace stared at her small, pale hands. They shook slightly as she stood. She brushed away the tears and the trails they left and walked out of the larder. The cook and servants greeted her warmly, however, she turned away from them, dismissively. Her eyes stared blankly ahead of her, seeing everything but nothing at all. She turned into her room and saw Ella sitting on her bed. Green met blue.

"Gracie," Ella began, cutting off her greeting with thin lips. Grace stood in the doorway, a frown on her face.

"Yes, sister?" The words sounded weak.

"Mother loves you," Ella said quickly. A scowl appeared on Grace's face, however, she wiped it away when she realized her terrible behavior.

"I am aware of this, sister," Grace said politely, "Do not trouble yourself over my shortcomings. I merely had a fainting spell and required a breaking of my fast. Nothing to worry about."

Ella seemed unconvinced, however, when Grace mentioned the dinner for tonight, she quickly forgot the trouble. Ella flitted about the room, fussing about both her and Grace's hair._ Here we go_, Grace thought to herself, dreading the next few hours.

* * *

The evening hours crept ever closer, and Ella got into the lavish carriage her father owned. Her purple dress fit her snugly and the dark red lip stain contrasted against her pale skin. Her countenance was grim, partially due to the pallor of her skin. Grace seemed just as somber, sliding in next to her sister. She placed her hands in the folds of her shining gray dress. Ella looked upon her sister, and she wondered what could be bothering her.

"Grace, dear sister, what troubles you?"

"I could ask the same of you dear sister," Grace quipped, expression cool. All talk was silenced by the entrance of their large father, sitting down with a grunt. The carriage had enough room for two more people, as the carriage was very fashionable and gaudy. All things were in Gondor. Ella pondered her (hopefully) budding relationship with Lord Boromir. She knew almost nothing about him, unless there were rumors, and those rumors were just on his looks. When she was in Edoras, with the horse-lords, she met a boy. His name was Théodred and he was the son of the king Théoden. She had been quite taken with him before she relocated to Gondor, however, her feelings for him still swelled deeply in her breast. She thought of the dark roots and golden tips in his long hair and his kind dark eyes. He was neither tall and muscular nor thin and wiry. He was perfect. Ella let out a sigh.

"Thinking of Boromir, are we?" Seon asked, quietly, a smile on his lips. Ella snapped out of her reverie.

"Of course, dear father, what else would I think of?" She pressed her lips into a tight, polite smile. As soon as Ella looked down at her small dainty shoes, the carriage came to a halt. It was time.

* * *

The three guests were greeted lavishly with servants, removing their cloaks, as it was beginning to take a chill in Middle Earth. Ella felt the warm air of the Citadel redden her face and she asked one of the servants where the powder room was. Directing her to the fifth door on the right down the first hallway to her left, Ella entered the room. A mirror sat in there waiting to lay it's reflecting eyes upon her. She looked at herself, wondering if it was really her. She saw Lady Ella, a suitor. She had lost the girl in Rohan, Ellie. Éowyn, one of her dear friends, used to call her that as they ran about the baths, naked and free. They saw each other turn to a woman, and for that, they were like sisters. Éowyn was more of a sister than Grace was at times. Ella supposed she used Grace as a replacement. When Ella had been told she was to leave Rohan and see her father, she was appalled. Her lady tutor attempted to comfort her, however, she found refuge in Éowyn's company. She could not remember how long she cried in Éowyn's lap. She only knew Éowyn cried as well. Now she was here. Lord Boromir was her only real chance of seeing Éowyn again, unless she should flee to Rohan. A small tear fell from Ella's gem-like eye. She wiped the traitor away and fled the room.

Ella stumbled back as she saw Boromir talking to her father, a large smile on his broad face. She took this time to observe him. He was not handsome; she now realized this. His nose was rather large for his face, protruding into the space where noses were not meant to be. His eyes were beady, however, the color was still present. His lips were thin, surrounded by a tidy beard. However, all these features seemed to fit in with him, not making him extremely attractive. They made him more rugged and battle-worn. The black doublet he wore exposed his thick, hard muscles, making him more attractive to Ella. She pronounced her steps as she strode forward and gained everyone's attention.

"My lady Ella," Boromir said softly, "A pleasure." He bent to kiss my hand, and I smiled.

"The pleasure is all mine, my lord. Shall we proceed to the sitting room?"

Boromir grinned, nodding. The trio followed Boromir to a richly furnished room, holding two males. One was our Steward, Denethor, who sat directly in front of the door. The other was a young man, approximately the age of Ella. He sat tall, thin and lean, however, sporting muscles in his arms. He was a bowman. He was prettier in the face than his brother, however, he sported the same hair and eyes. Ella assumed him to be Faramir, Denethor's youngest son.

"Good evening, Lord Seon," Denethor mumbled, cold eyes meeting Seon's.

"My Lord Steward," Seon replied swiftly. Faramir stood and met eyes with Ella, a smile rising on his lips.

"Lady Ella," he said politely, "Lord Boromir has spoken of you."

Ella's eyes crinkled up softly, "I should hope good things." A loud chuckle resounded behind her and she started, forgetting Boromir was behind her. Grace stood behind Boromir, twiddling her thumbs, praying for midnight.

"And who is this, my lady Ella?"

"Grace? She is my sister; I love her with all my heart."

Grace smiled at that, stepping forward and clasping her sister's pale hand. Denethor stayed quiet, allowing the young ones to talk amongst themselves. Seon observed quietly as well, both of the father's sending some silent message to each other.

"Dinner is ready, my Lord," a servant who had entered the room voiced.

* * *

Dinner came and went, Boromir receiving a sweet cake in honor of his name day. He was twenty and five on this day. Dinner chat consisted of Boromir and Ella exchanging in polite conversation on their likes and dislikes. Faramir chose to speak with Grace on books and lore of Middle-Earth. Denethor and Seon quietly spoke of business. This chatter barely filled the grand hall they sat in. After the fact, everyone went to the sitting room again. Everyone chatted together, however, a half-hour into the conversation, Boromir pulled Ella outside.

"Will you walk with me?" He pushed out his arm, and Ella daintily placed her small arm in his hooked elbow. He led her through parts of the Citadel in silence. Ella observed the beautiful architecture in awe.

"You like the building?"

"I love this place...my lord," she tacked on.

"As do I... my lady," he mocked with a grin on his face. Ella looked up at him, a sly smirk on her face.

"So, it is that game you wish to play, soldier-boy?"

Boromir grinned like a mad man, a low chuckle bubbling from his lips. "I want nothing more."

"You act like a school-boy," Ella remarked sharply, the smile remaining on her face.

Boromir feigned offense, "Me? Immature? I must be with a harpie like you following me about!"

Ella giggled, giving him a light slap to the arm. He took her arm again, smiling at her. Boromir regarded her appearance with greedy eyes. She was beautiful, no doubt about it. She had a woman's body in every sense, pleasing Boromir. Her face was dainty and pale, reminding him of a porcelain doll.

"My lady Ella, might I ask you a question?"

"Anything, my lord."

"Would you consider paying a visit to the Citadel in a weeks time, on this day?"

Ella frowned, "At what time?"

"Noon would be lovely, or I could pay a visit to your home?"

"_No_! I-I mean, I can be there on Thursday of next week, however, I am occupied on the day you speak of."

Boromir warily accepted her quick answer and brushed it off as a simply matter of a dirty house. Perhaps her maids were of poor performance.

"As you wish, my lady, I shall see you Thursday at noon."

"I shall count the moments, my lord."

"Ella! It is time to leave!" Seon called, lightly, saying his last goodbyes.

"Goodbye, Lord Boromir."

"Good night, my Lady Ella. May your dreams comfort you."

* * *

**I know! It was kind of short, but at least it's out! Please please please review! I desire them! I want feedback on how I'm doing. If I get facts wrong, PLEASE TELL ME! I want this story to be as "accurate" as it can possibly be, considering Boromir was never in a relationship. I love Éowyn, obviously, so I put her in here. She may seem OOC, however, she wasn't a shieldmaiden when Ella knew her. So... it proves to me that she was a liiiiitle girly. :) R&R!  
**


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